


Prevalence

by santanico



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 18:51:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santanico/pseuds/santanico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean asks as well as receives, boundaries are set and respected, and Castiel does rather well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prevalence

**Author's Note:**

> for [vicky](alaynestone.tumblr.com)'s birthday, this fic couldn't have happened without [ashley](pinkandsatiny.tumblr.com).
> 
> exploration of spanking and other d/s themes, no explicit sex except a brief mention at the beginning

When Castiel fucks him, Dean’s mind frame changes. It resets in a way; stutters backwards and seems to stumble and trip before charging forward, searching desperately for the power. Dean can focus on hands on his stomach, fingers tracing his elbow and shoulders, rough lips brushing against the nape of his neck and the top of his spine.

But there could be something more, something that might make Dean settle for once. Sometimes he thinks he knows what he wants but sometimes the way Castiel touches him makes him forget, and instead he lets his eyes flutter closed and takes deep, steadying breaths.

Angels don’t sleep, but Castiel still knows not to leave Dean alone in bed when he can stay. 

Castiel kisses him, open mouthed and sweet, then rolls to the side, onto his back. They lay like that in the dark, the chirp of crickets in the night breaking through the thin motel walls. Dean likes places like this because they’re familiar; oak scent and old air freshener, stark linens and the smell of the Impala’s leather seats from his clothes, now scattered on the floor.

Cas rests his hand on Dean’s hip, arm lazily lying on his waist as he rolls onto his stomach, head on the pillow, face directed at Dean.

“Are you alright?” Cas asks in a surprisingly small voice. Dean licks his lips and turns his head slowly.

“Yeah.” There’s an odd stirring in his chest, but the rest of him feels stable. More stable than he has in what seems like years. He smiles. “I’m alright.”

Maybe it isn’t true, but there’s truth to it.

Cas’ thumb rubs absent circles into his exposed hipbone and Dean shifts and watches as Cas adjusts to keep his hand in place.

The thought occurs to him suddenly, in a rush. He twitches and Castiel looks up in alarm. “Dean?”

Dean doesn’t respond but Castiel waits patiently anyway, his eyes trained on Dean’s face, although the alarm is already clearly gone.

Dean takes a deep breath and flinches a little – Cas removes his arm and sits up on his elbows, still eyeing Dean curiously, the kind of expression that makes Dean even more nervous to say what’s on his mind. But Cas doesn’t say anything, and that’s comforting in its own way; he just waits.

Dean’s gaze flicks down to Castiel as he sits up against the rickety headboard of the hotel bed. He nervously fingers the fringe of one of the sheets and then grimaces with embarrassment. “I’m not sure how to say it,” he admits, humiliated, and it’s times like these that he wishes the angels could really read minds like they seem prone to in fiction.

“Take your time.”

The crickets continue to chirp, unaware of any dissonance inside the hotel room.

“You understand…human sexuality?” He isn’t sure how to phrase the question, isn’t sure how to get to his point.

Castiel sits up on his knees and then leans back and crosses them. He’s studying Dean now, obviously trying to make something of him. “There are many facets to sexuality. But you’ve seen my work.” Castiel gives a half-smile and Dean rolls his eyes. “I have seen millions of years of developing human psychology, and with that comes sex. It’s natural. It’s a part of human life. And an enjoyable part, I might add.”

“You’re not human,” Dean points out, frowning at Castiel.

“Your definition of human is so narrow, Dean. But that’s not the point. We’re talking about sex, aren’t we? What do you want to ask me?”

Cas stares at him so intently that Dean looks away, muttering, “You’re giving me goosebumps.”

Castiel doesn’t offer condolences or a hand over Dean’s. He just sits, and he waits, and he’s patient.

It’s a relief.

“I want you to…spank me.” He lets out a sharp breath and looks at Cas, but Cas’ expression hasn’t changed, eyes still sharply focused on Dean’s, not even a hint of change. “I want you to be…in control. Like you are during sex. Like how you always know how much I need. You don’t just know what I want, you know what I need.”

Dean lets out another breath.

Cas pushes himself up and shifts in closer, cupping Dean’s jaw with his hand. Dean looks at Castiel with uncertainty for a second before they kiss, and it’s slow but pleasant, Cas working Dean’s mouth open with his tongue, purposely tilting his head back slowly to get better access. Cas’ free hand reaches around his waist and he straddles Dean, their skin pressing together carefully.

Cas rests back and Dean breathes heavily.

“I guess…does that mean you’re in?”

“We should set some guidelines first, perhaps?”

Dean nods and swallows.

“What is your safeword?”

Dean had thought about this and he sighs. “Kansas.”

Castiel doesn’t comment, just nods as he commits the word to memory. “I think you should sleep now, Dean.”

Dean eyes him warily. “You just want me to shut up or something?”

“No Dean,” Castiel says quietly, and this time his fingers do trace over Dean’s knuckles resting on his stomach. He then picks up Dean’s hand and turns it over and presses a quiet kiss to his palm, leaves his lips there for so long that Dean can swear he feels the sear of it in his skin. Still, he doesn’t pull away from the touch, as it’s warm and spread through his entire body like wildfire. “I’m saying that you’re tired, and should go to sleep now.”

Dean bites his lip and nods, sitting back against the pillow and sinking down.

Castiel stays with him.

-

They discuss it in more detail the next night, and Dean admits out loud, “I’m a little nervous.”

Castiel smiles and runs his fingers through Dean’s short hair, finds a grip and tugs his head back gently to expose the lines of his throat. He kisses the sensitive parts of the skin and Dean shivers involuntarily, letting a hand settle on Cas’ back.

As Castiel pulls back and sits up, he straightens his shoulder and his jaw. “Kansas.”

Dean watches him, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m letting you know I remember.”

Dean nods. 

“I’ve done the proper research, though I can’t be certain if you have.”

Dean rolls his eyes and tries to resist the flush creeping up his neck.

“Dean. Please look at me.”

Dean does as he’s asked and fails to ignore the flat-out rush to his groin that occurs at the command – it’s not even a command, a request. Maybe that’s worse.

Castiel cups Dean’s chin again and even if Dean wanted to look away, he isn’t sure he could. “You are safe with me. We are alone. Would you like to try spanking tonight?”

Dean swallows and stares down Castiel, judging the honesty in his voice and in his eyes. There is something impossibly earnest about Cas’ gaze, completely free of miscalculations or false words. The realization sets Dean at ease almost instantly, and he relaxes and nods.

“Tell me.”

Dean bites hard on the inside of his cheek and takes a careful breath. “I want…want to try spanking…tonight. With you.” It comes out muffled and nervous but Cas’ thumb caresses his stubble and it feels like praise.

“Thank you,” Castiel says, voice just as earnest as his eyes and he leans forward, presses his mouth carefully to Dean’s but does not part his lips. Dean doesn’t either, accepting the somewhat chaste kiss and letting his eyes shut. The anticipation is churning in his gut but it’s a pleasant feeling, and he’s distinctly turned on now as well. “I want you to get up off the bed. Strip all of your clothes off and then turn around and face me.”

Dean lives to obey these orders. It’s something they’ve done in the past to an extent, Castiel giving him a direction and Dean following it. Sometimes it leads to sexual gratification and sometimes it doesn’t. More often than either of those, it leads to some combination, where Dean has to jack himself off in the shower hours later to the remnants of Castiel’s controlling voice, the tone that attempts to escape his mind after not too long.

Dean does as he’s told, tugs his boots off first and then pulls off his socks, unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down, as well as his underwear. The air in the hotel is surprisingly cold and almost stings as it hits him – he tries not to imagine what it will feel like when Castiel is through with him – and as he puts aside his pants and underwear, he closes his eyes.

The rest is easy, pulling off his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt, pulling his t-shirt over his head. There’s nothing left on his body but he wish he had showered before this because he doesn’t feel quite right.

“Turn around.”

Amazing what two simple words can do to him. Dean does so and is surprised when he sees Castiel sitting on the edge of the bed, coat gone to God knows where and sleeves rolled up. His hair is messy, too; which isn’t unusual, but Dean is hyperaware now, unable to look away from Castiel’s features, the day-old scruff growing on his face and face. He wants to climb on top of Castiel and pull down his pants and fuck himself on Cas’ lap but he just takes a deep breath and bares himself for Castiel instead.

“Good,” Cas murmurs, like he’s appraising Dean, and by the way his eyes are looking Dean up and down it’s probably a very accurate term. “I’m only going to use my hand for this first exercise. I am going to start lightly and, as you adjust, I am going to become sterner. I will periodically ask you to tell me that you are all right. If for some reason you are unable to respond, I will cease the session. We both know that your safeword is Kansas. If you need to make use of your safeword, do so immediately. I will respond to your needs and try to interpret your reactions.”

Dean absorbs the information and finds that he can’t help but smile a little. “Yes,” he agrees, and figures that he can do this, that this sounds fair. “That’s good.”

Castiel smiles back. “Get on my legs, lying down on your stomach. Don’t worry. I will keep you from falling.”

Dean blinks and steps forward, wonders vaguely how this is going to work but at the same time trusts Cas totally and completely with the task. He rests a knee on the bed first and Cas’ arm winds around his waist, guiding him into position. Dean finds himself seeing the floor and the edge of the bed, as well as Castiel’s leg and part of his shoe.

It’s a strange position to be in, but at the same time it feels completely safe.

He closes his eyes.

“I’m going to begin now. Is that alright?”

“Yes,” Dean answers, forcing his voice to come out steady. “Please.”

One of Castiel’s arms holds him at his chest, and Dean’s feet are touching the ground, though he’s not holding himself up in the situation. 

The first spank is sudden, and Dean’s breath hitches with surprise. It doesn’t really hurt – feels more like a love tap than anything – but it’s a reminder of what’s really happening and Dean anchors himself on Castiel’s leg.

Nine more follow, and each time Castiel’s hand comes down just a little harder, just enough that Dean can feel the controlled pressure that goes into it. Each hit makes his body hinge and stiffen slightly, then he relaxes and breathes in sharply.

“How are you?” Castiel asks softly after the first set of ten.

“I’m great, thanks,” Dean grits, clenching and unclenching his fist in Cas’ pant leg, not sure if he even notices the grip. “Go. Please.”

He feels like he can almost hear Castiel’s smile and he takes a deep breath.

The next set happens much quicker, with each spank hitting increasingly harder. Cas doesn’t stop until he gets to twenty, and Dean says in his head to himself, “Thirty,” and feels proud of the number. His ass is starting to sting a little, but he thinks at this point it would go away soon, wouldn’t have much of an effect.

“How are you?” Castiel asks again, that little bit of assurance.

“I’m fine,” Dean answers, more honestly this time, more breathlessly. “Please keep going.”

Thirty more spanks. They reverberate through Dean at this point, leave his body feeling shocked and shaky. But it’s good – it’s fucking good – and he breathes through it, twists to press his mouth against Castiel’s arm that’s holding his chest up. The rhythm is delicious, like a drumbeat that he doesn’t fucking want to end.

“Shall I continue?”

“Yes.” Dean’s voice is almost haggard, desperate; he wants more, he wants it harder. And he feels it this time, when Castiel spanks the opposite cheek. The sting is more immediate, and he gasps, almost chokes and whines. Each spank from there on out further accumulates and this time Castiel gets to forty on his other side before leaning down and kissing the small of his back, right where Dean’s spine is.

“Is it good? Do you want more?”

Dean answers precisely. “Fuck yes. Yes.”

Castiel gives him what he wants, and Dean has never been more grateful for angel stamina than he is right now. Castiel’s fingers hold him steady, keep him so grounded that he doesn’t even think about the fact that his thighs or quivering, or that he’s panting now, tears welling up and stinging his eyes. He’s at the point where he doesn’t know where Cas is spanking and doesn’t even recognize the own lurch of his body at each collision, just knows he’s so fucking grateful right now, needed this so fucking much.

“Thank you,” Dean gasps as Castiel places a particularly hard hit on his ass. He is crying now, isn’t even sure why except that there are tears streaming down his face and he’s starting to use Castiel’s pant leg as more than just a place to cling to. He presses his cheeks and eyes into the material and he whispers his gratitude over and over and over again and he wants Castiel so much, wants to revel in this freedom until he can’t fucking breathe again because this is Cas, and his ass is hot now, he really can’t even feel the blows beyond what reactions they cause, can hear the slap of skin on skin and he could listen to it for days, could live like this – 

It stops. Dean has long lost count of how many times Castiel had spanked him and he doesn’t know how long he’s been spread out over Cas’ lap, either. Castiel’s hands are gentle now as they tug Dean up and Dean is almost completely limp, numbness spreading through his skin and muscles as Castiel lays him out on the bed, on his stomach for the sake of sensitivity, and spreads a hand over his shoulders and down the curve of his back.

Castiel doesn’t say something and neither does Dean as he breathes heavily into the pillow, eyes closing as he tries to focus on Cas’ fingers and the gentle trail they follow from between his shoulder blades and down to his waist. Castiel’s thumb presses against the top of his spine and slides down, sending pleasant sparks through Dean that break through the numbness he’d been about ready to let guide his mind to sleep.

Dean lies still as Castiel mouths at his throat and skims his rough lips over Dean’s smooth skin. Cas’ mouth is calloused like his fingers, and his hand finds Dean’s hip and holds him firmly but gently; the constant flutter of different touches helps Dean’s muscles to more completely relax and he steadily focuses on how Cas’ mouth guides its way down to the small of his back and then up to the nape of his neck again, his thumb rubbing slow, massaging circles into Dean’s skin.

The air conditioner in the motel room finally picks up, and the sound stirs Dean out of his state of near-sleep. He smiles as he notices that Castiel is still kissing him and touching him carefully, and he would even roll over to find Cas’ mouth and kiss him back if he thought it would work out for either of them.

If Dean wasn’t so immersed, his mind might be other places – trying to plan out the next day, or at least the next night; maybe even trying to figure out how he’s going to get ahold of Sam, what their next actions should be, how they should plan for the future. But there is something oddly comforting, oddly orienting about Castiel’s slow-moving palm and the shift of him over the bed sheets. Neither of them has said anything, but there’s unspoken agreement in the air that conversation isn’t really necessary.

At least, not at the moment. They’ll have to discuss things further sooner or later and, as Dean muses silently to himself, it is certainly one thing he isn’t really looking forward to. But Cas lays an arm over Dean’s back and around his waist, and there is something again in the action that so easily brings Dean solace and relaxes him. 

“It’s alright Dean,” Castiel finally says, and Dean isn’t sure how long they’ve both just been lying in the dark like this, Cas’ fingers and mouth and skin moving with Dean’s. Dean thinks that it can’t have been too long, because his ass is still sore – but in retrospect he realizes rather quickly that the soreness is going to be a normal side effect and with the way that Castiel goes about spanking him, will probably be something that he has to get used to. “You can go to sleep, now.”

Dean hadn’t been aware he was fighting off sleep but with the permission his eyes slide shut and he quickly drifts off.


End file.
